Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Morocco and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Laurel Aitken to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
10cc,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
H. Thieme,
Letta Mbulu,
Adolescents,
Eurythmics,
One Last Wish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nico,
Khruangbin,
E-Dancer,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cymande,
Con Funk Shun,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
These Immortal Souls,
The Happenings,
Moebius,
Sällskapet,
Sugar Minott,
Massinfluence,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Babytalk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Divine Comedy,
The Skatalites,
Tommy Roe,
Harry Pussy,
Boredoms,
Joe Smooth,
Hasil Adkins,
Soft Machine,
Isaac Hayes,
The Slits,
Camberwell Now,
Tom Boy,
Television Personalities,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oblivians,
Audionom,
Loose Ends,
Minnie Riperton,
Hoover,
Make Up,
Niagra,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
ABC,
Rod Modell,
Cybotron,
Agitation Free,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Average White Band,
Cluster,
The Saints,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.